


Breaking Your Skin

by Dirty_Corza



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:16:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirty_Corza/pseuds/Dirty_Corza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt "John and Sherlock, kill me" where one kills the other.</p><p>Sherlock is the reason for John's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Your Skin

John watched Sherlock picking up the needle with practiced care, and he knew, in some part of his mind that this was wrong. He should refuse, should tell Sherlock not to do this, not again.

“Shh, John.” the voice was soothing in his ears, the voice he only ever heard when a new vial was being used, another needle prepared to press into his skin. “Relax. It's stronger this time. And no crash to follow, I promise.”

“How can you know that, Sherlock? All the others had crashes, what makes this one different?”

Sherlock leaned over him, kissing his forehead softly. “I made this one myself. A drug of my own design. I made it just for you, John. I didn't want to see you in pain anymore.”

John's hand reached for Sherlock's, to grasp it tightly. “But what about you? Are you-?”

Sherlock smiled, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I;ll be there with you, John. I promise.”

John's face relaxed at those words, leaning back against the pillow of his bed. “All-alright then. So long as you don't leave me alone again Sherlock.”

The needle pressed into John's skin with practiced ease. “Of course, John. Of course.”

His eyes grew wide as the drug entered his system. Painless, that was what he had been promised, and painless had been delivered. Sherlock's smiling face was the last thing he saw before his eyes closed, heart slowly coming to a stop.

 

“He's dead, Sherlock.” Mycroft's voice was tinged with compassion, and Sherlock knew it was true. 

“That can't- I've been protecting him all this time, how?”

“Suicide. He'd stopped seeing his therapist, and, apparently, started manufacturing his own drugs.” Mycroft's voice trailed off, a sign Sherlock read as meaning there was more to it.

“What else, Mycroft. There's something you aren't telling me.”

Mycroft looked to his brother, pity in his eyes. “The flat was bugged, we have his last words, Sherlock.”

“And? What of it?”

“His last words... Were part of a one-sided conversation.” Sherlock stared as his brother spoke, hardly daring to believe what it was he was hearing. “When he administered the drug, it appears he was speaking to someone else, whom he thought was doing it for him.”

Sherlock shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Don't leave me in the dark about this, Mycroft. Just say it, say the name he spoke, since it's clear he did speak a name.”

“He was speaking to you, Sherlock.”

Sherlock didn't turn away as Mycroft's arms wrapped around him, his sobs uncontrollable. “All of it. All of this was for nothing, then!”

“You've burned down the spiders web, brother, was that for nothing?”

“Look at the cost. Not only my best friend, but his sanity. No web could be worth that price. None. None.”


End file.
